Port Royal Massacre
by Bianka Jade
Summary: Port Royal is clutched in the fists of pirates. Such an event will bring together all unlikely sort of chracters, as Elizabeth's world is turned upsidedown, and she is forced upon a journey. This is a story of bravery, revenge, freedom but above all hope.
1. Attack and Escape

Port Royal Massacre: The Ruby-Red Skull Diamond

Chapter 1 – Attack and Escape

BANG!

Elizabeth Swann's eyes opened with a jerk, as a woman outside gave a blood-curdling shriek. It was happening again.

Pushing back the covers of her bed, listening to the macabre, petrified screams rising like an orchestra of untuned violins, Elizabeth dashed to the window, and wrenched back the heavy cotton curtains. The sight that lay before her caused Elizabeth to literally gasp. Mayhem was already spreading through Port Royal. The recently repaired dock was in flames and sinking into the storm driven waves. Not even the heavy tropical rain was extinguishing the fires that were licking and jumping from building to building. The fort, yet again, was the only main attraction unharmed. The navy was already at positions, aiming the canons at the ships, invading their city – SHIPS! Yes, there they were, a whole fleet of them, maybe fifteen even, bobbing up and down in the churning water.

Unbelievably, Elizabeth watched as at least a dozen canons were fired into the harbour, and another equally matched set of canons flew back from the fort. Then the truth struck Elizabeth. This wasn't a foreign country at war with them - these were pirates.

How could they? Port Royal had done nothing major recently to anger them and cause any hostility between them. But Elizabeth knew her connections with pirates would be breached. She couldn't hide from them anymore, or from her true being, Elizabeth added to herself. Completely shocked by this attack, she stood there, frozen still, as she watched in horror, almost awe … but she quickly pushed that emotion away, as a cannonball came hurtling towards her. Mute and paralyzed, it flew and was only no more than a hundred meters did she snap out of her dream, thrust the curtains together and dived to the ground as a morbid, heart-stopping crunch echoed all around her and the mansion.

CRACK!

The parlor of her father's mansion was now nothing but a giant ditch full of debris and dirt. Half of the stairs had collapsed, leaving the rest of it still hanging and reading to fall. Clearly they had come to kill us all.

Back up in Elizabeth's room, as she clung on to the end post of her bed, shivering in fear, as her room jumped and shook. One of her dressers tipped over, spilling jewels, gloves, garments and contents from its drawers. Another canon hit the second story; exploding a room several doors down the hall. She could hear the servants screaming. A bookcase fell this time, missing Elizabeth's bare foot by an inch. She squealed, as several books hit her and china ornaments shattered, pieces cutting and scratching her.

Her room was a wreck, objects broken and laying everywhere. Fear stabbed through, she knew what these sorts of pirates were capable of. Orange light flickered through her room caused by explosions, blotting out the milky moonlight. Elizabeth now knew what she had to do.

Elizabeth cried out in more anger than pain, as she heaved herself on her feet, then she headed towards her wardrobe, but pain immediately seared through her left ankle. Tears sprung to her eyes, although she didn't utter a sound. The ankle was probably twisted, from when she had fallen over when the canon had hit her home. Praying it wasn't broken and clenching her teeth together, Elizabeth hobbled over to the other side of the room to another wardrobe where her pirate box was hidden. Trying to ignore the pain swelling inside her foot, she collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the dresser; she pulled opened the doors and started rummaging through the contents. There she found what she was looking for. Dragging out the heavy box in a hurry, Elizabeth ripped off the lid and in there found Barbossa's shotgun. When Jack had shot him, Elizabeth had swept Barbossa's weapon inside her red jacket, while Jack and especially Will were looking the other way. If Will knew what she had done, how disappointed he would be. But Elizabeth couldn't really care less right then.

Along side it on top of the navy jacket and outfit was a dozen bullets and gunpowder. All of it, Elizabeth had stolen and placed in that box months ago, it was full of memories. She liked to think of it as her own treasure chest, her pirate raided plunder. Quickly as she could she loaded her gun, she had watched the navy and pirates do it a million times over. The explosions and screams were growing louder and coming closer, it was war! The pirates would be darkening on her doorstep – or what was left of it – any moment now. Replacing the lid, tucking the box under her arm, she stood up and raced for her dressing gown. Putting it on she heard footsteps –

Gasping in fright, Elizabeth wheeled around cocking and then aiming her gun at the intruder. But it was Governor. Swann, still in his day clothes. He had come to warn Elizabeth, and help her escape – he wouldn't be following her though.

"Elizabeth!" He said, eyeing the shotgun his eighteen year-old daughter had pointing at him.

"Father! Who startled me! Are you alright? What's going on?" She cried as she lowered the gun and ran to her father.

"Elizabeth …", Governor. Swann repeated, wheezing. "Darling, you have to go now! Escape! If – they catch you – what – they'll do!"

Elizabeth held her father, he was unwell, and she didn't need the feeling of his frail grip to tell her so. There was even a shallow cut across his brow.

"Father, please don't worry about me! You're sick and injured. You need help – ".

"Don't be silly girl. I'm fine … besides. They'll find me, and when they do – I hope – my death shall be painless."

Tears shone in her eyes. What was her father going on about, he was always practical and to the point. Didn't he understand they were ALL in danger? "Father what are you going on about? Are they hunting you? I won't let them hurt you. If I can hide us and then we'll be safe …".

"NO …but yes Elizabeth they're after me and this is not the time for arguing!" He hugged his daughter tighter and then let go of her. Holding her at an arm's length, staring firmly into her eyes, he continued steadily. "I'm not a coward! And I'm governor for goodness sakes! My town is being destroyed; people in my care are dying! I will not lie down to the pirates! And everything here will be gone, even you, if you don't run now! " Governor. Swann begged, and was already heaving his daughter to the stairs.

"I'm not a coward either!" This stopped her father.

"This isn't a game of who is the bravest. This is reality!"

"I know! I've lived this life, and I know what we're up against! Trust me … Daddy, why can't you come? Nothing is stopping us escaping together!" At this Elizabeth started dragging her father to the staircase instead, only to discover it missing. "Don't worry I find another way!"

"No! Elizabeth, you must play close attention. Get down into the kitchen, and escape through the back door. And I'm in no condition to follow!" He added, as Elizabeth was about to interrupt. "Follow the back road by the jungle, hide from any passer-bys. Follow it till you're out of Port Royal, then you must get news to other cities what is happening here. You'll probably meet Will at some point. But find help! Save Us!"

Elizabeth was lost for words she nodded, knowing she was going to have to leave her father behind to the mercy of the pirates, and God, God please save him! Besides she couldn't even see another way to get down, let alone one non-athletic enough for her father. They were trapped, she thought, and then said, "But father – WHY are they attacking, what have we done recently to harm?"

"Use you common sense! We kill them, imprison them!"

"But a fleet, to attack like this!"

Another canon hit the side of their mansion as another whizzed by a window.

"Elizabeth, please. They're coming for me! You must escape. You'll find a way. " Explained Governor. Swann, but was cut off by Elizabeth, who gave her father a final hug, with tears pouring from her eyes.

"This isn't fair! I see now why you told me to detest them!" she said to him softly. "I'm sorry for all the bad, wicked things I've done. The things I've said – ", But Governor. Swann hushed her. "You're very brave!" Elizabeth finally said.

"So are you, but you're still a child, my baby girl!" He answered back, which halted her tears. "You're strong, you can save those that will live long enough. I love you. Your mother and I will watch over you."

Elizabeth nodded again whispered "I love you too," back to her father.

WHOOSH!

A canon hurtled into the entrance hall, making contact with the maid's dormitory, setting it alight.

His grip tightened on her, and then whispered, "Now, please go, quick!" She shook her head.

"One more thing, please answer - why are they coming for you? What have you done?"

He sighed, more with memory than pain, and hoarsely said, "I had a member of the Navy steal their most precious treasure. They'd use it for all the wrong reasons. I couldn't let something so powerful fall into the enemy's hands. Now they've figured out where it is and who took it … my study and … me! Elizabeth, please forgive me? It's my fault this is happening! But now – it will fall into the wrong hands … I should've kept it somewhere more protected – to late now …"

An army of footsteps could be heard running up the street, so Elizabeth hurried him.

"What is _it_, father?"

He sighed, then whispered hurriedly. "It's greater than good and evil! It is more powerful than the sun could ever be. It could kill us all – The Ruby-Red Skull Diamond!" Suddenly a metal claw with a rope attached flew through Elizabeth's window, followed by menacing, evil voices. The pirates were going to attempt to climb up the wall into Elizabeth's bedroom! And Elizabeth realized with horror that they could.

"GO!" Governor. Swann screamed, "Save yourself!"

A rock, with a much stronger throw than the claw, soared past the broken and right into Elizabeth's stomach. Completely winded and blank, she crashed through the balcony with the force, as she fell through mid-air.

Elizabeth must have been fainted for a second or two because of the pain, because she found herself what seemed a second later, dangling from the chandelier, from which her the back of the dressing gown had caught one of its brackets. It wouldn't hold her long, and too her shock, her weapon and box were lying amongst the rubble beneath her. With mute horror, she watched as the pirates emerged from her bedroom window, climbing over her windowsill. She tried too free herself but it wouldn't work. Immediately the pirates saw her helplessly hanging there. The dirty, horrid, sons of the devil they were. One called out, "We'll find some purpose for her later!" And another chanted, "Governor's daughter! Dirty, wench!" They cackled madly.

"Leave her alone! Don't you dare touch my daughter!"

No, begged Elizabeth as she tried to ignore the agonizing pain and fright that was spreading through her, don't draw attention to yourself. Please!

Her Father emerged down the hallway, armed with but a rifle and fire poker for weapons. The found him funnier than Elizabeth, and all laughed insanely. On a quick count Elizabeth knew there were at least twenty. There was no hope …

"He's the one! The one who sent the orders to steal it! Kill him!" A pirate yelled.

"No!" Screamed Elizabeth, but she felt the chandelier give.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" She squealed as she hit the mud and dirt. Her body throbbed but she told herself to be thankful the mud was soft and the chandelier hung low.

"Elizabeth! RUN!" Her father called, as he shot one pirate, who fell to the ground dead. The rest of the pirates shouted in outrage and fired at Governor. Swann.

"You cowards!" Elizabeth sobbed in pain, as she watched her hero fall to the ground, covered in blood. The pirates turned to her, smiling menacing and determinedly. She quickly scooped up her box and gun, and then ran for her life as a dozen bullets were fired at her. Not caring about her ankle or stomach, she sprinted through the kitchen and out the door. Behind her she could hear pirates jumping from the balcony and continuing in her wake.

Darting through the gardens in the pouring rain and past the empty barns and stables, she tripped and slid down a muddy bank and landed on the back derelict road. The rain has growing heavier, drenching her to the flesh, making her light brown hair straighten and cling to her skin in strands. Her rich brown eyes welled with tears, but whether they spilled you couldn't tell as rain wet her face. How long she sat there, wet and covered in mud, not even Elizabeth could answer that if you asked her. After what could've been a minute or millennium, she told herself to get a move on before the pirates caught her. Personally, she couldn't care what they would do to her, nothing would compare to the despair of loosing her father. For the first time she longed for Will, not because she was in need of rescue, as she new her escape path, but because she longed for someone to talk too, to be comforted, to make the decision for her.

For some reason Jack Sparrow popped into her mind. She thought this peculiar at the time of the situation, but now she would of happily welcomed him to hold her, to tell her it was all a dream or – everything would be fine – he would look after her. But the Captain was probably in Tortuga, drowning himself in rum without a care in the world, except for the wonder where he would turn up in the morning and how bad the hangover would be. He wouldn't know or care or understand what she and her town were going through. He's probably forgotten me and wouldn't now even remember Will's name anymore, or any adventures they had together last year. Just some sort of haze in the past, as if wondering through a fog, trying to remember the way back. Lost … that was certainly how Elizabeth felt right now … but Jack –

He was a free and flighty, unreliable pirate. Hating him for what he had done, for not being her to save her, Elizabeth loathed her childhood hero and good friend. That was it; she wouldn't become dependant on anyone anymore. She had had it, with death surrounding her, and bad memories. Being betrayed, lonely, holding out for a hero … She had had it …but - it's not his fault, how can he get from one side of the Caribbean to the other in a minute, he doesn't even know what is going on here. No one in the outside world even knew, said the one part of her mind that still was thinking practical. Look, he's not here, no one is, Elizabeth reminded herself, so get a move on and forget about him too. She returned to think about her mission …

So she got to her feet, tucking the dirty squashed box under her right arm and along with her gun in her right hand too. She groped in the dark for a stick to lean on, and when she found one long and sturdy enough, she set off down the road, with her left foot off the ground, using the stick as a left leg. It was a slow process, but it would rest her ankle. Elizabeth tried to think of positive things, things to keep her mind off the hollowness inside her, which was eating her up unless she was happy. Feeling with her bleeding, dirty, bare right foot she found the middle of the road and kept limping in that direction.

Screams and gunshots were firing far off from the town; the pirates had won and were taking over. How would Port Royal react, if they knew that their only hope was a young woman, scarred, injured and weak with a bruised and swollen ankle and stomach, limping in a shredded nightgown, along an abandon road, in the dark – could be their savior.

Elizabeth thought of her father, his body been cremated as the fire spread through their house. He was born there, and died there. The pirates had no doubt now possession of the diamond, and God knows what they would do with it. Greed was a horrible thing, everyone experienced it, even father had, for he had stolen the diamond as well.

"DON'T SAY THAT!" Elizabeth cried out in fury, into the empty night. "HE ONLY STOLE IT TO STOP THE PIRATES FROM USING IT FOR EVIL!"

Elizabeth gasped, at how the shouting left her out of breath. Elizabeth forced her self on, even though she knew she was tired, thirsty, broken, depressed and an orphan.


	2. The Passing of Light Between Shadows

Port Royal Massacre: The Ruby-Red Skull Diamond

Chapter 2 – The Passing of Light Between Shadows

An animal gave a cry somewhere in the dense jungle. The black night was already turning to a soft blue- grey, the stars were blinking out one by one, and the moon had already sunk over the horizon. And yet Elizabeth kept walking, her breath coming in gasps, rattling as she breathed in. what would she give, for the events of the previous night to be erased from history, to never of occurred, to wake up this morning in her bed, to get dressed and then walk down to the dinning hall and eat breakfast, and talk with her father.

It had only been mere hours since his death, yet it felt as though years of grief had mounded on top of her heart. It was like revisiting the death of her mother all over again, except that time she still had her father, they were in the loss together. But now … she had no one.

Then she realized she had Will, he always cared and looked out for her. Father had said she would meet Will somewhere along the road, but Elizabeth doubted she would now. It was dawn, and she had long since left Port Royal. She would be on her own. She only prayed to God to show mercy for Will, and not let him be dead. She couldn't bare any more loss.

The stick had given way hours ago, and her left foot was strong enough to limp on. Her arms shook with the weight of the gun and box, which she thought was silly, until she realized the ache flowing through her body, and knew it was because she was battling fatigue and thirst. And misery, Elizabeth added to herself. Knowing she'd kill herself if she kept going, she collapsed into a heap in the middle of the road. Her bare, right foot was swollen and red, covered in mud, blood and dirt. In fact, she discovered her whole body was covered in mud, blood and dirt, along with scratches and cuts and bruises.

Noticing both her feet, Elizabeth begged them not to get infected or in a worse condition. All she needed was a gang of pirates to come up this track, and find her lying there, scarcely alive with feet that wouldn't allow her to walk on them for a long time. But now, now … she had to rest.

And what else Elizabeth did need, was a stream to wash in and drink from. But she had never been on this road before and didn't know where in God's name she was. So she talked to her parents; "Please, mother and father, watching over me," she begged them silently in her mind, "give strength or hope or guidance. Help me … please - help me …".

She put her head down on the hard and cool gravel, before sighing with exhaustion and gloom. She would've wept; had not she fell fast asleep as soon as her dainty body levelled out on the ground …

Elizabeth awoke too a sharp poke in between her shoulder blades on her back. She groaned and tried to go back to sleep. She suddenly noticed how hot it was and how unclean and sticky she felt.

"Get up! GET UP! Do ye want 'em to catch ye, ya silly girl?" A voice whispered harshly from somewhere above her, blotting a shadow in front of the redness the sunlight was casting through her eyelids. "Stop moping, and get up!"

Elizabeth's blood ran cold. She knew that voice. Hers eyes opened and she looked up. Standing in front of her, shielding the daylight was no other than –

"Ye don't need to look like ye seen a ghost, Missy. I'm perfectly solid!" The sturdy pirate heaved Elizabeth to her feet. "And what's this, you're worse than Jack the Monkey, stealing me gun while I was dead."

"Barbossa – I … I – ", Elizabeth stuttered in absolute disbelief.

"Shut up and get a move on! What ye need to know ye will find out when ye need to!" Barbossa commanded, snatching up his gun and the box. "Stealing others' stuff … well, Missy, ye secret don't bother me but if ya daddy found out – he he!" He chuckled, but Elizabeth let out a whimper of despair.

"You're so heartless!" She cried. Not realizing however Barbossa didn't know of her father's death yet. And more to the point she was so shocked. Perhaps she had died and was in the afterlife, but if Barbossa were here she couldn't be … perhaps hell -

"Oh, the pain can't be that bad!" Barbossa replied with a snarl, not understanding Elizabeth was talking about her father, not her feet, or body for that matter. So instead, he snarled again and lifted her straight off her feet, and tossed her weak and weightless body over his shoulder.

Elizabeth moaned as pain erupted over her stomach from being knocked into his shoulder. But completely weak she was in no mood to fight back, so just hung there limp.

"Don't ye dare go dead limp on me, I'm not young like yerself!"

"And I'm not healthy and rested like yourself!" She snapped back. "You're a lot grumpier and less sarcastic than the last time we met!"

"Hmph, I doubt it. That would've been when ye friend Sparrow gave me a gaping hole in me chest!"

"He's not my friend, besides - I have to be dreaming, I saw you – You were _dead!_"

"Hasn't been on a bloody cursed ship full of bloody cursed pirates taught ye nothin?"

"Yes, never strike a bargain with an old, grumpy pirate again."

In retort she received a mix of swear - words, insults and cursing thrown at her, which was enough to keep Elizabeth quiet for long time.

Finally the travelers emerged from dark jungle, which grew on either side of the road, with its canopy casting a green glow. Elizabeth found herself going uphill, the jungle growing further away as Barbossa carried her. There was naught but grass covering the hill. In the distance Elizabeth could see the demolished Port Royal, and she couldn't believe she had traveled so far.

The golden rays of the sun heated her back, warming the muscles, maybe even repairing them. It was quite peaceful, except for the heavy _thump-thump _of Barbossa's footsteps. The air was rich and sleepy, and a gentle buzzing came from the grass, as bees floated by.

Easy for them, thought Elizabeth, it didn't matter if her home was being destroyed. Everyday was the same for them. Nothing affected their day-to-day pattern of life.

Suddenly they came to an abrupt stop, and Elizabeth slid from Barbossa's shoulder, hitting the ground with another painful landing.

"What was that for!" Elizabeth bellowed at the pirate.

"My shoulder hurts!" He replied spitefully.

"Well there was no reason to drop me like that. You could've warned me!"

"What? When you've been slaving away and resting while _I _carry _ye! _It's been quiteeasy for you and yet nota word of thanks even … well that's the respect ye get from a prissy wench's mouth …", and he blabbered on for a bit, but Elizabeth could tell he was putting it on.

"Alright - alright! Thankyou! Thankyou so much great carrier of me!" She shouted at him, sick of his droning.

So they sat there in silence for a while, before Elizabeth broke it.

"So how did you … well, you know – come back? I saw you, you were dead! And you couldn't have used a piece of Aztec Gold, the curse was lifted."

"Aye, I couldn't. My story tis a good un', n' it ain' filled with magic. But," he started, "it tis true – I did die and – ".

And then an explosion erupted from the jungle, followed by a mass of birds pouring out from the treetops. The air was filled with gunshots.

"_RUN!"_

They scampered to their feet and ran. Bullets sped past them, but miraculously none of them reached their target. Barbossa pulled Elizabeth up to a hut, just sitting there like a skerry in the middle of the ocean. He had to be ridiculous, Elizabeth thought as he headed straight for the door, this was the first place they would search. It was out in the open!

Barbossa hammered on the door, before it was quickly opened and a filthy short figure, and she felt herself being hurtled inside. A quick glimpse illuminated by the light from the doorway showed Elizabeth she was in a shack. There were all sorts of rusty bloodstained weapons, which hung from the huts' dirty, termite-infected walls and roof.

Then the light went, blackening her world, hiding the huts' other inhabitants who were left invisible, lurking in the depths of the corners …

The silence that occurred after it was, in itself, deafening. She couldn't hear the drone of the bees or swish of the grass blades anymore. The firing had ceased.

And this silence was much scarier than the one of the previous night. Just crouching there in the dark was atrocious. Horrified, Elizabeth listened intently for any noise that was going to creep up on her in the dark.

Then it came. The heavy pounding of footsteps up the rocky path. And then the jeers of pirates, crawling up the hill. A chill ran down her spine in panic, as Elizabeth her their angry, merciless voices, hunting them down.

She gulped in fear, and felt the cold fingers of Barbossa cover her mouth, as icily spoke, "Hold ye' tongue … or I'll cut it out."

So she cowered amongst the smutty, un-swept floor, trembling, unable to do anything.

The air was thick with dust and neglect, and so still it made the rotting-fish aroma around the room smell a hundred times worse. The maids and butlers and all the staff at the mansion would of fainted with horror if they walked in here.

Then what could've been a minute or a millennium later, the growling and the arguing and the footsteps faded away, and the unbearable silence came again.

No light could illuminate the hut. The few petite, square windows that there were hadn't been washed or touched in what looked like years. Grime and dirt and dust had built up over the glass, so thick nothing from either world on each side of the wall shone in.

How could Elizabeth or anyone of known if it were safe or not.

Then suddenly, someone at the back of the hut could be heard fumbling in the darkness. Then a voice followed in triumph, as if he had found something. The rest of them stirred. Then the voice cursed, and whispered, "Bloody ell', I dropped it!" a moment later Elizabeth heard the striking of a match, and a spark erupted, illuminating the darkness, like a firefly at nighttime even though it was midday.

Soon enough grubby wax candles were lit all over the room, making everything a bit brighter.

When her eyes adjusted, a horrid sight played before her …

Hideous, ghastly, smelly and filthy men loafed around the small space, their rotting teeth smiled and pus-filled eyes opened in excitement at the sight of a young woman. A whisper then a murmur arose, all attention focused on Elizabeth.

Heart beating rapidly, and realizing what a vulnerable situation she was, Elizabeth pushed herself backwards, crawling towards her escape.

And the foul, tainted men continued in her wake.

"No, please!" She began, in utter disbelief and terror at what was happening. These demons around her just laughed and advanced, beckoning her with evil words to match their appearance and behavior.

The cowardliness and ganging was torture to her, retreating up against another figure, she begged herself not to believe Barbossa had betrayed her.

And then, like the sound of hope, a gun clicked behind her.

"So much as any of ye' take another step near the lady, I'll blow ye' brains out and hang what's left of ye' head on me cabin wall!"

Apparently, Barbossa had major authority here, as the bandits backed away, muttering disappointedly. But Elizabeth took no notice, as she clung to Barbossa in thanks.

"I gotta get ye' outta here," was all he said though, and instead of turning around and exiting through the door, he dragged her across the floor, past all the outlaws and down rickety staircase.

Cobwebs hung from empty torch bracket to ceiling to wall to staircase and back to torch bracket. How anyone could live here she didn't know. At the bottom of the stairwell dust and dirt was so thick that Elizabeth couldn't tell if there was any floor or it was just exposed to the ground.

Even the light from Barbossa's candle which spat and hissed like an angry snake, didn't make much difference.

The end of the hallway disappeared into nothing, like a thick, empty, daunting fog engulfing them.

Barbossa and Elizabeth's faces flickered back and forth in between light and shadow. It was the perfect setting for perhaps a ghost story for a gullible individual.

The floorboards creaked, and the only other sound that let them know they were alive was the rattled, anxious breathing coming from the pair. It grew cold, despite the summer air outside. Elizabeth then realized they were underground.

Towards the end of the hallway, which bore no doors and only faded, old and ripped wallpaper, was a door, but it seemed it was only but the beginning to this enchanted cursed hallway. They had in fact walked for a while passing nothing. The door was cleanly hanging of its hinges except for a single nail. Planks of wood were missing, however not revealing the dark, mysterious room on the other side.

Barbossa lifted the candle and looked further down the passage. "It doesn't end here, ye' know? I 'spose it's a matter of when _you_ wish it too …".

"I don't understand what you mean, Captain Barbossa? It's got to end somewhere … it can't go on forever …".

He threw her a sly smile, but he shook her question off, and turned the handle of the door. It squealed squeaked, before Barbossa just barged through, the door smashing on the floor, tossing up a mountain of dust.

Coughing and holding her hand to her mouth, she followed him in, and realized there was a bed and sofa, and perhaps a bathroom behind another equally wrecked door.

"This be your room missy, for the meantime …", Barbossa said, "and oh, I'll take the sofa. Being a lady and all ye' may have the bed. It'd be darn too soft for my liking –".

"Excuse me, but we're _sleeping_ in the _same room …together!"_

"There's no need too screech. It's entirely proper. Besides, I find ye', save ye', I carry ye', hide ye', I save ye' again and now I offer ye' the comfortable sleeping furniture. All I can say is ye' treat those who are nice to ye' generously –".

"And I can the same for yourself. How do I know this isn't a trap like last time? You frighten me, hold me hostage, and threaten to kill me for your own fault, then cut my hand open, humiliate, hit, offer, betray and maroon me, and then finally again to point a gun at me and threaten me again … I can say we're still not close to even!"

Barbossa opened his mouth to retort, only to be cut off by another slurring voice, lurking from a shadow in the corner. Elizabeth gripped the cuff and arm of Barbossa's jacket in fright, as he aimed his gun at the intruder.

"Mate, if she's got problem with the bedding arrangements," it said, "tell her that I'd be more than welcome to share if it suits her!"


	3. Sunrise and Sunset

Chapter 3 – Sunrise and Sunset 

Elizabeth gasped, then whispered unbelievably, "Jack …".

The pirate emerged from the shadows, grinning, pointing a revolver of his own at Barbossa, which Barbossa instantly followed suit.

"Cap'n love," Jack said, before going back to Barbossa, "I thought we finished this off last time –".

"Ah, about that …", said he as Elizabeth heard the unmistakable click of his gun, echoed by Jack's.

"Stop! _Please …_this is ridiculous!" Elizabeth begged them, stepping right into the heart of their conflict. She turned away from Jack and faced Barbossa. "It's an eye for an eye already. Don't make it uneven again. You've both performed mutiny to eachother – don't turn the odds against you again!"

Jack may have lowered his weapon a little, but Barbossa remained hostile.

"Why should I bother? One blast and I could rocket him from this world. That'd make me feel a bit better about life," Barbossa said nastily.

"But then we have to bother 'bout ol' Jack, about what he wants and feels about that." The Captain retorted.

"And who's to say Jack wouldn't come back, even if you did kill him!" Elizabeth added with a smirk.

"Yeah, an excellent point, thankyou – ".

"Shut up!" Elizabeth ordered, silencing Jack, before looking Barbossa straight in the eye, "I can't believe how side tracked I've gotten already. All this nonsense is interfering with what my father told me to do, his death wish …". But she trailed of, remembering the events of the previous night.

"And what may that be?"

"I need to help the hostages in Port Royal, save them from this vile and cruel massacre. I need you two and anyone else to save them from these pirates." But Elizabeth realized too late, that asking pirates to fight other pirates for the release of a city that would hang them all anyway, was like asking Barbossa to go to Italy and join a ballet company.

Of course he just cackled evilly, but it was Jack's face that hurt. He just stood there with a confused, upset look on his face, unwilling to believe her. It upset Elizabeth too, she had thought of all people that might come to her aid outside her city, would of course have been Jack.

"Jack, please … there are innocent people down there, women, children, men that fought for their families – ".

"Port Royal sentenced me to death, and _those_ people all stood around, just stood there and watched me … entertained by me death."

"But Will helped you! He risked everything he had to help you escape. He's probably down there, slaving away … or even dead … we have to save him, everyone – Jack, you know this is wrong! The bastards shot Father … and then they just stood there and laughed, then they came for me," Elizabeth could feel herself choking up and her eyes misting over now, but she had to be strong, for Port Royal.

"All women are in danger, the children and elderly will be shot, along with the weaker men … _Please_ … there is no way anyone from another city could know what is happening. Only us three know of this hell and can do anything about it, unless your filthy friends upstairs are willing to help, but I wouldn't put it past them. I beg you - please … I can't do this on my own."

He stood there, for some time, silently. Not exactly meeting Elizabeth in the eye he said, "Those pirates are only doing what's right by them …", he shrugged his shoulders, before continuing, "If I had an army that size – I'd be doing the same thing, or if those pirates hadn't sworn to rip me limb from limb, I'd be joining in. I hate ye' town Lizzy, nothing personal against you or anything though!"

Then Jack, having spoken his thoughts and said his piece, aimed his gun back at Barbossa's heart.

The fury and rage running through her veins turned Elizabeth's blood cold, and even she was slightly surprised at her sudden hostility. But Jack's answer was no surprise, really. She had known as soon as she saw Jacks' face what he would say, but nevertheless, to have it thrown at her like that – Jack not giving a damn even about Port Royal, her father, Will or … her. The lack of sympathy or concern … that's what struck Elizabeth in surprise.

"There are innocent, helpless people down there, Barbossa and Jack … think about that," was all Elizabeth could think of to say. It was as if someone had reached in and seized hold of any vocabulary and thoughts she had left.

Barbossa muttered something that sounded like an insult under his breath and grinned eerily, with something catlike about the smile to which, Jack smirked back. They were engaging a private conversation, which made Elizabeth more desperate and furious.

Walking past both barrels of the guns, she marched out of the dingy room, clenching her hands into fists, with which she'd like nothing more than to turn and knock out a decent amount of teeth from Barbossa's sly, shameless smile, and as for what would hurt Jack –

Elizabeth slammed what was left of the door shut. It fell clean off its last remaining hinge, and clattered to the floor, and erupted in a storm of dirt and dust.

She then left, and continued further down the enchanted hallway, leaving the grimy, resettling air in the wake of her forced stride.

Elizabeth knew perfectly well what had set her off. The only two people, who could of guided her in a quest to save Port Royal, had laughed at her or betrayed her. That was how Elizabeth saw it anyway.

The corridor seemed to stretch for centuries, teasing Elizabeth so she knew she'd go on walking until she died. Well, whatever pessimistic thoughts the hall was trying to give her, it was working. Goosebumps arouse on her arms and legs, exposed to the cold, stale air by the rips in her nightgown.

Maybe she shouldn't have left Jack and Barbossa … she could get lost – No, don't be silly, Elizabeth told herself, it's a straight hallway with no bends or forks or even any corridors leading off it. There wasn't any way she could be trapped, eventually she'd reach a back entrance or something, and then continue her mission to another town.

But then again, when Elizabeth turned around, she couldn't make out the staircase, or any sign she was walking away from those evil men upstairs. Perhaps she'd twirled the wrong way and was going back into a trap … or she'd been so scared and lost in her thoughts she hadn't noticed a fork and turned into it … Elizabeth was so confused and frightened.

The corridor _was_ trying to play with her mind … and it was winning.

Elizabeth had never felt so alone. Not even when she was on the Black Pearl, or all those times she and Will found themselves lost, whether in the jungle or locked in separate cellars after messing up the cooks' kitchen … Elizabeth wasn't even as alone when her mother died. Her father had held her then, and they had wept together.

But now the time for crying was past – you couldn't have everything your own way by sitting on the ground and sobbing your heart out, even for a greater cause. In the end, people would just walk by you, either ignoring you or just forgetting you were even there.

Elizabeth finally realized now what it felt like to be going mad with fear and despair.

"And even if I let you waltz out of my cabin –".

"YOUR cabin. I was here first."

"So how do you propose we settle this?"

"It already is, I engraved my name on the bed head, look – right here!" The Captain strode up to the bed and pointed at some words etched into the woodwork, "It says it right here – 'CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow was here, 1705'. Therefore my bed, my cabin, my ship and me – Captain!"

Barbossa fired his gun at Jack, which only missed him by a hairs' breadth, roaring through the open window. Without missing a heartbeat, Jack threw his sword at Barbossa, which was sad to say it missed by a clear foot.

"That was weak," Barbossa sneered.

"I know, the Great Barbossa usually hits his targets."

The very next second, Jack found him self in a headlock, with a knife at his throat and a very angry Barbossa arm around his chest, making it impossible to breathe.

"All right, all right … ye' – win …" Jack managed to gasp.

Barbossa kept the grip for another minute or so, before tossing Jack on the cabin floor. There Jack coughed and inhaled huge gulps of air until his head stopped pounding. Barbossa gaited to the door, with an air of triumph about him. Oh no you don't, ol' bugger, thought Jack.

"You know, for an old bastard ye' move pretty fast, but I just don't think you can beat me in a swordfight!"

The answer he got was the blade of a sword plunged into the wooden floorboards where a moment before was his hand.

"That wasn't nice!"

Quicker than you say 'oh shi-', Jack was up and the pair of them were parrying around the Captains' Quarters.

Jack was fought back through the open doors of the cabin. Not going to let Barbossa win, he swung back and Barbossa went flying into a wall made of rum barrels.

"Why, thankyou," said Jack slipping back into the Captain Cabin, and shutting the doors with a firm bang! He locked them, while seizing hold of a rum bottle off the desk before finally collapsing on the bed.

Well done Jack, he thought, always one step ahead of everyone. He took a healthy swig of the drink and shouted merrily, "This is the life!"

Another knife came sailing through the minute gap between the doors, pinning one of the sleeves of Jack's shirt to the wall.

Only the previous day had CAPTAIN Jack and Barbossa left the old, hidden fisherman's shack. They had trudged (or tripped and rolled in Jack's case) all the way down the hill to the remote harbour, which was unknown to all except for local fisherman. The little bay was situated on the other side of the peninsula. The formations of hills and valleys with the jungles protected it from view.

Jack and Barbossa relocated the abandoned wharf, and an old but seaworthy carrack floating and tied up to the dock.

The owner in question lived in a hut at the line where sand and rock met jungle. Smoke issued from the chimney, but Jack and Barbossa couldn't see anyone through the shabby curtains that hung behind the windows. The hut was in good condition too, like the carrack, but old.

Jack rose from their hiding place behind an ancient rock, and paraded in clear view right down onto the wharf.

"Jack!" Barbossa hissed exasperated. Sparrow waved back to show he knew what he was doing. Sighing, Barbossa didn't have any doubts at all about the future, not with it safe in the hands of Jack Sparrow.

Not!

Barbossa hissed again, like a venomous deadly snake. He moaned as he watched Jack turn around and march straight back to the fisherman's old hut door. Jack climbed up upon the porch, and smartly knocked three times on the door. Barbossa nearly jumped up and ran from his crouching position, when he realized Jack had a shovel at hand.

The door opened with a loud creak, and was echoed with the sound of a BANG, the sort BANG that only erupts when metal and skull clash.

Barbossa met Jack as he came strolling out of the hut twirling a ring of keys around his finger and a short note clutched in the other. He kneeled down, tucked the parchment into the jacket of the unconscious and robbed man, then stood back up with a carefree smile as if he did this very day. Which he probably does anyway, Barbossa added to himself.

"Ye' didn't have knock him out!"

"Why not? Besides, we're only permanently borrowing the ship."

"He'll remember ye' anyway!"

"Nah! At least not until he reads the note and figures out why he awoke to find himself lying on his front veranda, savvy?"

Jack steered the carrack southwest, veering out of the bay. The sunlight sparkled and spun over the gentle waves. The heat warming their backs, the glare of the water and Barbossa's out-of-tune flat humming made Jack want to do nothing more than slump over the wheel and dream. Of course, if he did so, he'd awake to find himself chained to a table leg with a bucket of water and scrubbing brush beside him, awaiting the enslavement between them.

Jack stared out over the railing. A school of dolphins swam up by the hull of the ship. There would have been about a dozen; there were even calves too. They leapt and danced and frolicked about, singing and playing. What truly beautiful animals they were. Even Barbossa would have to agree, even if not out loud though.

Perhaps constant hours later, when sun was sinking into the west, did the dolphins disappear beneath the still and calm waves. The sky transformed into a deep violet blue, the west erupting into violent shades of red, orange, yellow, pink and purple

Long ago, Barbossa must of departed. Perhaps he may even be preparing a decent meal, though Jack shoved any chance of that. But Jack supposed it was a good thing. Now Barbossa wasn't undead anymore, there would be nothing but apples on his plate anyway. And Jack couldn't stand looking at more of the God damn things, not after realizing that shoveling them down your throat in front of Barbossa to tease him wouldn't work anymore.

His thoughts about irritating Barbossa drifted to Elizabeth. Jack was surprised. The girl had asked him to kill men who were on the same side as him, and in her spiteful selfishness way she had asked, to top it off. That had hurt Jack.

But then the poor lass had been in a fragile state of mind. She'd just watched her father die, and then, no point in denying it, nearly been raped and murdered herself. And she'd walked the whole night in darkness, covered in blood and dirt, by herself.

Jack had been shocked himself when he first saw her, torn and ripped like that. Maybe Barbossa and Jack shouldn't of left her

(well, to be correct, she walked out on us)

and gone on by themselves, she needed help,

(no, God damn it, she walked out on me -)

maybe he should turn the boat around and go back for her,

(her face, how it crumpled and how she looked ready to fall to the ground and sob her broken heart out)

no, Elizabeth wouldn't still be there by now,

(and yet she still looked beautiful)

and what was Jack thinking?

Her face, beautiful - like a sunrise,

Her eyes, beautiful - like a sunset …


	4. Blood Red Ink Sketch of Port Royal

Chapter 4 – Blood-Red Ink Sketch of Port Royal

**I have never written an Author's Note but I thought I had to with this chapter. This chapter's events are heavily based on the European settlement in Australia. Australia being my home I wanted to include and base my story on some of its early and dark history. You'll notice some similarities between the true facts and this fiction. Whatever else of this chapter there is, is only my imagination. But now on with this short, but unpleasant chapter. **

Drop … drop … drop …

Dead … dead … dead …

The bastards roared and laughed, and then they cheered, applauding as three innocent, little boys swayed in the Caribbean breeze, their eyes staring grey and blankly out to sea. The rest of the children screamed and sobbed, as they were dragged up upon the gallows, soon to hang as their brothers and friends just had.

Mothers howled as their babies were pried from their chests, before being kicked and left moaning and withering on the ground.

Will was forced to stand and watch it happen. From his imprisonment of chains and a mast, he witnessed the crying mere infants being buried up to their heads in sand and dirt. The pirates lined up and charged down the promenade striking blows and stabs at the helpless babies heads. The bloodied and destroyed crowns rolled and tumbled; while others still alive shrieked the most morbid noise ever heard.

Still the bastards laughed and whooped, they were playing games, torturing, ravishing, murdering … all for fun.

Will grinded his teeth against the gag, with the most fearsome hate etching through every inch of his body. For the first time in his life he knew what it was like loathe, and wish another nothing less than an eternity in the fiery pits of hell.

How he wanted to rip and slice every single one of those pirates limb from limb, skin for skin.

A gang of least half a dozen pirates ran by chasing a girl, not even old enough to be fifteen. She wailed and bawled as three of them caught up and pounced on her like angry lions. Will heard clothes ripping, the little girl begging for mercy, screaming for her father.

Rip – rip – rip.

Mercy – mercy – mercy.

Never!

Ravish!

Burn!

Die!

Don't worry … we'll just watch and laugh …

Will wrenched at the chains in vehemence, yelling in fury at the devils. He had once only arrived just in time to save Elizabeth from the same fate; he couldn't stand by and watch it again. The gag muffled any noise; he went by unheard by the pirates.

Snapping the chains in a deafening CRACK, he tore to the harassment in a heartbeat. Not caring how he got hurt in the process, he attacked one of the rapists from behind, grabbing, shattering and breaking the neck. Snatching up the fallen sword, he plunged it into the next man's stomach. The man gave a shout of surprise, before crumpling to the ground as the sword slid out. The rest of the gang abandoned their attempt at robbing the girl of her purity. They drew swords, flexed muscles and smiled with more peril that Will had ever seen. The pirates' eyes sparkled chillingly - the black spreading through, leaving an endless pool of darkness behind them.

The next few seconds were a complete blur to Will, all he could recall was cursing, fighting, pain, blood, death … he came out of it realizing he had killed another three men, and the sixth lay there in a pool of limbs and blood, moaning and complaining he'd done nothing to deserve this.

Will sighed, and then smiled grimly. The little girl winced as Will brought the sword down, down and hard straight through the pirates' neck!

The blood from the jugular of the pirates' neck squirted and rose like a fountain, drenching him, Will and the girl in the pirates' worthlessness. The girl mounted to her shaking knees and clutched her arms around Wills' knees. She sobbed and gasped, unable to say anything. Her clothes had terrible rips in them, one displaying her leg, another across the shoulder, but still covering with decency.

Will felt more pity, sorrow and anger erupt and boil inside. This massacre was beyond injustice or revenge, it was war.

Will grasped the sides of the girls' face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes shone and leaked, striking Will with their intensely sky-blue colour.

"Miss, you must run! More will come in a minute. Grab whom you can and together run like hell. Head for other towns, warn them what's happening, send rescue!"

She stared at him in horror for a slight second, breaking it by rising very bravely and strongly. She nodded.

"Don't look back!" Will added desperately.

"I won't … thankyou …" she gasped, taking a few steps back, before turning on her heel and fleeing through the alleys.

Will faced the gallows, his face molding into the face of a hater. Swinging the sword high above his head, he bellowed to the pirates curses and death-threats. They drew their swords in synchronization together at the sight of him, departing the children with their necks coiled around with rope.

This is it, thought Will, in the end we all die; it's just a matter of when and how.

He charged down the steps and into the end of his time.

If a person could fly, and they flew over Port Royal at that very moment, they would witness a war.

The shallow harbour waters are stained red. The red, limbs and bodies counted in numbers lay strewn across the shore, the whitewashed sand now matching the sea. From the resettling flames the smoke is rising and blowing, twisting and circling. The fires are dieing across the port, but battle was being born in their place.

The wharfs and jetties hang limply and float over the churning waters. The current takes wooden debris drifting out to sea, carrying blank-eyed sailors along with it.

The remains of Navy ships sink slowly to the seabed, where their brothers and sisters wait for them to join the vessel graveyard. Whatever boats survive the attack will be left to pilfering by pirates. The port reflects the grey, rain-splattered sky, like an ugly being looking into a cracked mirror.

On the gallows island dancing and twirling by their necks are former citizens. Their wigs hang lopsided on their twisted heads. Their gowns and suits now ripped and fluttering like butterflies. The bodies shredded of any jewel or riches. The newly suspended sign read, "Welcome to Port Royal, a pirate conquered port … come join the fun and culture." Slowly the morbid warning rocked back and forth, with a loud, slow, chilling CREEEEEEAK, suspending by chains.

Pubs and taverns packed themselves bursting with drunk, rowdy pirate. The bandits swung from roofs, shattering windows, felling walls, burning buildings. Fights broke out every heartbeat between the pirates. Lethally they all ended.

A group of children and youth see their escape. They scurry up a hill. A band of pirates see them. They turn their rifles and swords on the children. One by one they fall, their screams and sobs subside. Before one departs, she thought how her rescuer had wasted his time saving her. Her vibrant and striking blue eye stare frozen at the sky.

Victims fled, villains chased.

Screams and shouts shook the valleys and mountains surrounding the city.

The cries of the despaired soared over the madness.

The moans of the broken spread through the alleys and streets.

The howls of the tortured echoed around the port.

The final gasps of the dead erupted constantly in harmonies and melodies.

Ashes sprinkled and fluttered over the remains of a conquered battlefield.

That's what that flying somebody would see …


	5. The Hallway Between Times

Chapter 5 – The Hallway Between Times

A wheezing and rasping call erupted Miss Heidi from her reverie. She had been thinking about how nice it would be to thrust her sword into the heart of her enemy. How pleasant it would be to see blood flowing - like a gentle waterfall, from the chest of her foe caused by the arrow of her own skill and bow. Nevertheless, she couldn't put her plans together with that absurd moaning from outside her dingy room.

Ascending to her boot strapped feet; she crossed the rickety woodwork leaving her footprints in the dust. She turned the handle, released the door and opened her mouth to tell them off. Immediately she shut it when her deep, dark eyes settled upon the presence outside. Inside the hallway she found a grubby, bloodstained figure on the ground, several paces down from her room.

Heidi trudged cautiously to the motionless person, only to realize the body was a mere young woman, not too much older than herself. The woman's mousy brown hair was streaked with sweat, dirt and what looked horribly enough like a dry, brownish liquid. Heidi prayed it was only rust or mud.

Heidi's eyes traced down to this lady's back. There, without a doubt was blood, seeping through the remains of her nightgown. The wound looked extremely vulgar, was untreated and quite old too. It was sure to be infected. The girl had no hope of survival.

Turning on her heel, Heidi strolled back to her squatter cabin, not wanting anything to do with a dying, agonizing girl. Yes, she would answer to anyone who asked, I am a cold, black-hearted soul. Having your father die at sea, mother burgled, watching her die of heartbreak, working in the slave trade and travelling alone for three years; seemed to make you that sort of person.

She wanted to escape from the hallway. What an enchanted place it was. Time seemed to hold you there and stand still; everything would then come over cloudy, confusing and dreamlike. People did drift in and out of the corridor, like passengers would fill up and exit harbour docks. Heidi found it unpractical and ignored them, at least she tried to.

She heard the souls, stalking up and down, this way and that, back and forth. Heidi listened to them whispering, muttering in their haunting language - the language of the dead? She felt the bitter iciness creeping in through the gaps in the woodwork slicing through her, frosting her eyes. They played at her and teased her in her dreams, fraternizing with her mind. She sensed them being there, only a mere five paces away; her only protection was the wall. She knew they were there … all the time.

Yet, Heidi didn't have much choice. Underneath the fisherman's hut was a cobwebbed maze of shelters and hideaways. She'd leave this place once she had figured at her plan, and felt ready to continue, and not as though walking into another dead end. Of course she would continue … unless they found her first.

Heidi was much obliged to skulk and take refuge hidden in her stolen cabin, praying no one would come her way. Well, nobody really would anyway; the hallway held all back except for those who weren't the weak and cowardly. So if Miss Heidi was weak, then you could call a pirate an honest, dependable man.

Heidi suddenly heard a quiet, almost minute, gasp from behind her, then a shuffle. Wishing the dieing girl would just die and leave, Heidi turned around – back into the dream.

Out of the dream, Elizabeth somewhere in the foggy distance saw movement. Perhaps even angels, she thought hopefully, who would take her to her family, or possibly the gateway to heaven. Oh, imagine the happiness and loveliness of that thought if it could only be true.

The mistiness faded, turning back into Elizabeth's endless hell. The floorboards and dust hadn't transformed a speck. Not in the entire eternity she had doubtlessly been crawling along the hallway.

No light had flickered, not the slightest bit, to indicate night or day. Not any torches or candles hung from the walls, therefore omitting no glow of guidance. No, it seemed the light was shining from the side of the hallway, shining and leaping out from the rotting walls itself.

How Elizabeth just pictured herself slowly dieing, trailing around and around in circles amongst all the passages bounding off eachother. How it pierced her when she imagined expiring right in the middle of a corridor, bewildered folks finding only but her bones centuries later, with not even but a name to put to her remains. Her final resting place, if she ever had one, would be in an abandon, forgotten cemetery, among the hundreds of other restless souls. Buried under but a wooden cross, there would be scratched and carved on carelessly and emotionlessly -

'R.I.P – Unknown identity, 1600's – 1700's'.

The worthlessness - the overlooked - the emptiness – the hollowness, that filled inside you. To never be found or remembered again …

But yet, ahead of Elizabeth Swann, like some ray of hope, how ridiculous it sounded – a pair of boots. The situation depended all on what Elizabeth had the ability to do.

Shuddering as she raised her head, and opened her mouth. The lips had completely wedged together, with the lack of water or movement. Voiceless and panicking as the pair of boots moved away, Elizabeth ripped them apart, feeling skin tear, blood spill. She automatically gave a shallow, rasped gasp at the sting and stab of pain.

Praying for a miracle she had caught the attention of the boot-person, meeting the deep dark eyes of perhaps her rescuer, Elizabeth rattled slowly jut one small word.

Heidi shivered in fright and confusion as the sick and bleeding woman crawled helplessly towards her. Heidi didn't help people, she never showed sympathy, not after the events of her life.

Frozen by the voices swirling around the hall, and decision ahead of her, she bared her teeth and gripped the doorway. She wanted to retire to her unmade bed, to forget this being that existed in her hallway – but yet the words 'coward' and 'afraid' flew around her mind, mixing in with the ghostly voices billowing in the passage.

Not wanting to live knowing she had emotions and could be afraid, Heidi sunk to her knees in front of the dying girl. Raising her chin above the young woman, Heidi extracted her right hand to the lass's own. She grasped the frail, bloodied thing and spoke softly, "It's okay … I'm gonna help you."

They were the words of an angel, a saint to be sure. Elizabeth could enter the gates of heaven and be free from any suffer. It didn't matter she would leave those few who were close to her behind, she would wait for them in heaven. And there would be her mother and father to be with for eternity – forever.

But the face above her that swam into focus was not one of a saint. The surroundings had not changed; she was still locked in her endless purgatory. Why couldn't it just end? Every time she came close to her freedom it was snatched away, and she awoke into melancholy and misery.

Gazing into her last resort of redemption, Elizabeth noted how the eyes were so dark; so dark the pupils were almost lost in the center. The eyes, how they scared her - they may have once been warm, rich, vibrant with life and happy. Yet if they ever were, it was lost now. They were cold and empty, stretching forever in pools and tunnels of black. You could float down them forever and never reach the bottom.

The hollowness was frightening familiar.

Then something made sense, a horrible truthfulness flowed through Elizabeth. Those eyes, they were the eyes of a pirate - a devil's son.

How she wanted to throw herself away and scream and cry. No matter where she turned, she fell into the hands of pirates. Well, this would be the end. Elizabeth couldn't think of a less dignified death to endure.

Her life had still been quite short-lived. Truly enough her life had been full of riches and equality, yet it was surrounded in death, right up till the very end.

The grip was still there, and whispering came from the pirates' mouth. The lips were slightly thin; particularly the top lip, and rosy in colour and bow-shaped. They didn't look like they had worn many smiles. The nose had the tiniest dent and even smaller rise at the end - oddly cute and childlike, but perfect. The nose didn't match the eyes. The eyes showed years of depth and pain and anger, which was poignant. So at least nose hadn't curved into a hook, it would frighten anyone who looked at the pirates' face even more. But nose was something to be grateful about for this lost soul.

The skin was olive, and sprinkled with faint freckles across the nose, now fading as the skin got darker. A little beauty spot rested above the lip on right side, along with two small moles on the right cheek to the side and fairly down low, thought not at level with the chin.

Taking note of the eyes again, you would see how they were almond shaped, and the long, curled eyelashes were so dark they could've been blue. The eyebrows were straight, except for the middle were they rose in little aches, like the outlines for two sides of a triangle.

The cheekbones sat very high, and the chin was pointy and slightly prominent. Not a perfect face, nor extremely beautiful but instead appealing, with probably thousands of stories to tell with it.

There was something delicate and feminine about this person. Perhaps he was a cabin boy who had seen too much of the world already, like Elizabeth.

Heidi gently let go of the girl's hand and bent over her. The girl seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, but forever staring at Heidi's face. Heidi didn't like that. It made her feel so exposed and vulnerable, she liked it best if she were ignored, scurrying about in own business, like hunting down her enemy. Rather rough and unsure, she gently patted the girl's shoulder.

Heidi had forgotten what it was like to be cared for, and had trouble feeling for the girl. Her comforting moves were like she had never loved before, and had only read a book on how to do it.

As slowly as she could, Heidi lifted the girls' left arm around her shoulder, heaved the girl carefully to her feet and swung the right arm around the girls' waist, hoping not the hurt her more. Heidi dragged her down the taunting and whispering hallway into her room, and placed her on the couch. She then rushed back to the door, and bolted it scared ghosts would creep in after her. Heidi then paced to the first-aid kit. There were multiple bandages, cloths, and dressings, cleansings, ingredients for poultices, herbs, thread and a stitching needle. A container of fresh water stood beside the pack.

Snatching what she needed now and leaving the herbs for medicines later, she trudged back to the girl. She was fully conscious now.

Bloody hell.

How was Heidi meant to stitch her up and clean her wounds when she would be shrieking in pain? The girl blinked several times, before adjusting her eyes on Heidi.

"Thankyou," the girl whispered.

Elizabeth now had a full view of the pirate. Yet, in fact, he wasn't a pirate. Instead he was a mere cabin boy pretending to be a pirate and would have pulled it off if he had a beard. His hair was long, knotted into a plait with a black ribbon. As he bent over the bag to retrieve what horribly looked like some bandages, thread, bottles of liquid and a thick, glinting needle, Elizabeth noticed how his chest had a curve outwards, but couldn't place why. Perhaps he was strong, he must have been to lift her and take through all the passages into this room.

Elizabeth didn't know how time ticked down here, but having been carried in the arms of the cabin boy and drifting through the corridors seemed to have taken another eternity.

She thought some words escaped from her throat, as he turned to face her, but she couldn't be sure.

But as he came over and placed a wet cloth on her forehead too reduce the fever, she knew she was safe, and had found a friend.

Heidi watched the girl smile and fall asleep as the dripping cloth cooled her. Heidi knew that soon enough she'd have to start treating that wound on her back. Hoping the girl would be unconscious, with another clean cloth she began to wipe and wash the dirt and blood off the skin, and then starting treating the minor cuts and wounds.

With her knife she cut the gown off, feeling unclean as if she were invading in this strangers' privacy. But they were both female, and Heidi could probably still save her life, so it was necessary.

Suddenly, the scarf around her left hand fell off, revealing the damaged, horrid sight. She quickly bound scarf back around the ruined remains of her hand.


End file.
